On our Puducherry page we asked who the “State Government” in section 200 is when the place is a Union territory, set out the provisions, and refused to answer. Chandigarh answers it in practice. Its notification says, in terms, that the power under section 200(1) is exercised by “the Administrator, Union Territory, Chandigarh” — and since 1984 that office is held, ex officio, by the Governor of Punjab. In twenty-six jurisdictions this is the only one where the compounding power belongs to another state’s Governor. What follows from it is a genuinely good document: thirty rows, five columns, a column that names the only three authorities who may compound, the three-month licence disqualification written in where it applies — the first schedule in this series to do that — and section 184 limited in brackets to handheld devices. The one problem is that the police website’s own transcription of that notification differs from it in four places, including a date fourteen months in the future.
One page ago we ran into something we had been quoting without thinking for twenty-three pages. Section 200 of the Motor Vehicles Act lets offences be compounded for such amount “as the State Government may, by notification in the Official Gazette, specify”. In a Union territory, the General Clauses Act says those words mean the Central Government — while Puducherry has its own legislature and an Administrator advised by a Council of Ministers.
We set the provisions out and declined to answer, because it is a constitutional question and we are not entitled to answer it.
Chandigarh does not resolve the constitutional question either. But it does something more useful for anyone holding a challan: it shows how the power is actually exercised, in the instrument’s own words.
The notification on this page is made by the Administrator of the Union territory, expressly under sub-section (1) of section 200, and it says so on its face.
Not by the Central Government. Not by a state government. By the Administrator.
| Issued by | Chandigarh Administration, Transport Department |
| Number | No. 2/3/57-HIII(7)-2019/19674 |
| Date | The 6th December, 2019 |
| Power used | Sub-section (1) of section 200 of the Motor Vehicles Act, 1988, as amended |
| Exercised by | The Administrator, Union Territory, Chandigarh |
| Signed by | Dr. Ajay Kumar Singla, IAS, Secretary Transport, Chandigarh Administration |
| Supersedes | Home Department notification No. 2/3/57-HIII(7)-2008/2848, dated 8 February 2008 |
| Published | Endorsement No. .../19675 of the same date, to the Controller, Printing and Stationery, UT Chandigarh |
| Schedule | Five columns, thirty rows — including a column naming who may compound |
That endorsement line matters more than it looks. Section 200 requires a notification in the Official Gazette, and this document contains, on its face, the instruction sending it to the Controller of Printing and Stationery to be published. Several instruments in this series give no sign of ever having been gazetted.
“In supersession of the Home Department, Chandigarh Administration notification bearing No. 2/3/57-HIII(7)-2008/2848, dated 08.02.2008 and in exercise of the powers conferred by sub-section (1) of Section 200 of the Motor vehicle Act, 1988 (Central Act No. 59 of 1988) as amended and all other Powers enabling him in this behalf, the Administrator, Union Territory, Chandigarh is pleased to specify the authorities mentioned under column 5 of the schedule below to compound the offences mentioned under column 2 thereof either before or after the institution of the prosecution for the amount mentioned under column 3 and 4 of the said schedule.”
Notification No. 2/3/57-HIII(7)-2019/19674, 6 December 2019 — as printed in the notificationThree things in that sentence are worth marking, and we will come back to each.
Chandigarh’s Administrator has been, ex officio since 1984, the Governor of Punjab. The present holder was sworn in on 31 July 2024 and holds both offices at once.
In every other place we have written about, the authority that fixes compounding amounts belongs to the place where the challan is issued — a state government, a Lieutenant-Governor, a transport secretariat.
In Chandigarh, the office that issued the schedule on this page is also the Governor of a neighbouring state. A driver stopped in Sector 17 is paying an amount fixed by Punjab’s Governor, wearing a different hat.
We want to be careful not to make that sound improper, because it is not. It is a long-standing constitutional arrangement made by the Centre, and nothing about it suggests anything irregular. It is simply unlike anything else in this series, and it is the kind of thing that is invisible until you read who signed the instrument.
Chandigarh is administered under article 239 of the Constitution: by the President, through an Administrator appointed by him, and in practice directly through the Ministry of Home Affairs.
It has no Legislative Assembly. That is the difference from the two Union territories we have already covered.
| Territory | Legislature | Who exercises the section 200 power, as practised |
|---|---|---|
| Delhi | Yes, under article 239AA | We did not ask when we wrote that page, and we have said so there |
| Puducherry | Yes, under the Government of Union Territories Act, 1963 | We could find no section 200 notification at all |
| Chandigarh | None | The Administrator, expressly under section 200(1) |
There is a mild irony there worth stating plainly. The territory with no elected legislature is the one that produced a clean, dated, published, fully reasoned compounding notification. The one with an assembly and a Council of Ministers produced nothing we could find.
We are not drawing a lesson from that. Two data points is not a pattern, and the explanation may simply be that a small directly-administered territory has a shorter route from decision to gazette.
The other thing that makes Chandigarh unusual is whose laws run there.
“The Central Government may, by notification in the Official Gazette, extend with such restrictions or modifications as it thinks fit, to the Union territory of Chandigarh any enactment which is in force in a State at the date of the notification.”
Section 87 — as printed; the section has no sub-sections or provisosIn August 2026 the Minister of State for Home told the Lok Sabha that 238 Acts enacted by Punjab and 7 Acts enacted by Haryana are currently in force in Chandigarh, and that extensions are considered case by case: “The extension of any enactment to the Union Territory of Chandigarh is considered based on local requirements and in accordance with the Punjab Reorganisation Act, 1966”, with “a separate policy for extending state laws to Chandigarh is not considered necessary as an established procedure is already in place”.
Put section 87 next to section 200 and the shape is identical.
“The Central Government may, by notification in the Official Gazette, extend… to the Union territory of Chandigarh any enactment which is in force in a State…”
“…for such amount as the State Government may, by notification in the Official Gazette, specify in this behalf.”
Same formula — a government, a gazette notification, a discretion. The only difference is which government, and in a Union territory the General Clauses Act makes the Central Government the answer to both.
That is not a point of law we are asserting; it is a reason the Puducherry question is harder than it looks. In practice Chandigarh’s Administrator signed under section 200(1), and the notification was gazetted, and nobody appears to have treated that as a difficulty in the seven years since.
It would be easy to read “238 Punjab Acts apply in Chandigarh” and conclude that your challan comes to you through Punjab law. It does not.
The Motor Vehicles Act is a central Act. It applies in Chandigarh of its own force, like everywhere else in India. Section 87 is about extending state enactments, and the Motor Vehicles Act was never one.
The 238 and the 7 tell you how the territory is governed. They do not tell you where the figure on your challan comes from. That comes from the notification of 6 December 2019 and from nowhere else.
The 2019 amendment came into force on 1 September 2019. This notification is dated 6 December 2019.
Ninety-six days. In twenty-six jurisdictions only one government moved faster.
| Assam | 25 days — 23 September 2019 |
| Chandigarh | 96 days — 6 December 2019 |
| Nagaland | 14 months — 12 November 2020 |
| Chhattisgarh | 2 years — 25 October 2021 |
| Madhya Pradesh | 2023 |
| Mizoram, Meghalaya, Telangana and others | Never — the instrument in force predates the amendment |
Speed is not the same as quality, but on this one the speed and the quality go together: a document drafted three months after an amendment, by people with the amendment open in front of them, is why row 14 carries a limitation that most states missed entirely.
Transcribed as printed. Columns 3 and 4 are the first-offence and subsequent-offence amounts; where the notification merges them into one figure we have shown it once across both.
| Sr. | Section, as printed | 1st offence | Subsequent offence |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 177 | ₹500 | ₹1,000 |
| 2 | 178(1) | ₹500 | ₹500 |
| 3 | 178(2) | ₹500 | ₹500 |
| 4 | 178(3)(A) | ₹50 | ₹50 |
| 5 | 178(3)(B) | ₹500 | ₹500 |
| 6 | 179(1) | ₹1,000 | ₹1,500 |
| 7 | 179(2) | ₹1,500 | ₹2,000 |
| 8 | 180 | ₹5,000 | ₹5,000 |
| 9 | 181 | ₹5,000 | ₹5,000 |
| 10 | 182(1) | ₹10,000 | ₹10,000 |
| 11 | 182(2) | ₹2,000 | ₹5,000 |
| 12 | 183(1)(i) — (i) two wheeler; (ii) LMV | ₹1,000 · ₹1,000 | ₹1,500 · ₹2,000 (driving licence of such driver shall be impounded as per provision of sub-section 4 of section 206 of Act) |
| 13 | 183(1)(ii) — medium goods / heavy goods / passenger vehicles | ₹2,000 | ₹4,000 (driving licence impounded as per sub-section 4 of section 206) |
| 14 | 184 (only for use of handheld communication devices) | ₹2,000 | ₹10,000 (within three years of previous offence) |
| 15 | 186 | ₹500 | ₹1,000 |
| 16 | 189 | ₹5,000 | ₹10,000 |
| 17 | 190(2) | ₹2,000 (driver shall be disqualified for holding driving licence for a period of three months) | ₹5,000 (same three-month disqualification) |
| 18 | 192 | Two wheeler ₹3,000 · other vehicles ₹5,000 | Two wheeler ₹5,000 · other vehicles ₹10,000 |
| 19 | 192A | ₹10,000 | ₹10,000 |
| 20 | 194(1) | ₹20,000 plus an additional ₹2,000 per tonne of excess load | |
| 21 | 194(1)(A) | ₹20,000 with the liability to pay charges of off-loading of excess load | |
| 22 | 194(2) | ₹40,000 | |
| 23 | 194(A) | ₹200 per excess passenger | |
| 24 | 194(B) | ₹1,000 | |
| 25 | 194(C) | ₹1,000 (driver shall be disqualified for holding driving licence for period of three months) | |
| 26 | 194(D) | ₹1,000 (driver shall be disqualified for holding driving licence for period of three months) | |
| 27 | 194(E) | ₹10,000 | |
| 28 | 194(F) | ₹1,000 | ₹2,000 |
| 29 | 196 | ₹2,000 | ₹4,000 |
| 30 | 198 | ₹1,000 | |
The schedule has a fifth column, headed “Authority competent to compound the offence”. Most states say who may compound in the preamble, if they say it at all. Chandigarh puts it in the table, next to the money.
“1. Chairman, State Transport Authority, Chandigarh.
2. Secretary, State Transport Authority, Chandigarh.
3. Police officer of the rank of Head Constable and above of Chandigarh Police.”
Three categories is the shortest list in this series by a distance.
| Chhattisgarh | 24, including District Magistrates, Additional and Sub-Divisional Magistrates |
| Mizoram | 9 |
| Meghalaya | 5 |
| Chandigarh | 3 |
Chandigarh is small and compact, so a short list is not surprising. What is useful about it is that it is checkable: if the person taking money from you is not a Head Constable or above, and is not the Chairman or Secretary of the State Transport Authority, they are not in column 5. That is one of very few conditions in this entire series that an ordinary person can verify on the spot.
| Police Constable | Maharashtra |
| Head Constable | Assam, Chhattisgarh, Meghalaya, Chandigarh |
| Assistant Sub-Inspector, in uniform | Mizoram |
| Sub-Inspector | Himachal Pradesh, for the Shimla offences |
| Inspector | Telangana |
Section 200 leaves the choice of officers entirely to the notifying authority, and twenty-six of them have made five different choices. Nothing in the Act suggests a floor.
Row 4 of the schedule prices section 178(3)(A) at fifty rupees, for a first offence and for a subsequent one.
We saw that and assumed we knew what it was. This series has spent several pages on amounts left behind by inflation and by the 2019 amendment: Goa’s hundred-rupee cap, Puducherry’s ten rupees a month, Telangana’s four hundred rupees for speeding. Fifty rupees in a 2019 document looked like another one.
It is not. We checked the Act.
Clause (a), for a two-wheeled or three-wheeled motor vehicle, provides for a “fine which may extend to fifty rupees”. Clause (b), in any other case, provides for a fine which may extend to five hundred rupees.
Section 178(3)(a) and (b) — as printed; untouched by the 2019 amendmentSection 178(3)(a) — refusal to ply by the driver of a two-wheeled or three-wheeled motor vehicle — still carries a maximum of fifty rupees today. The amendment that multiplied almost everything else left this one alone.
Chandigarh did not fail to update a figure. It copied the current maximum exactly, as it did on nine other rows.
We are writing that out at length because it corrects a habit of ours. We have been treating small numbers as evidence of stale drafting, and on this page that assumption would have produced a confident, wrong paragraph. Not every fifty-rupee figure is old. Some of them are Parliament’s, and current. The check costs one look at the section.
Measuring every row we could against the statutory figure gives the shape of Chandigarh’s policy — or rather, shows that there isn’t one single policy.
| Section | The Act | Chandigarh | Proportion |
|---|---|---|---|
| 178(3)(A) | ₹50 max | ₹50 | 100% |
| 179(1) | ₹2,000 max | ₹1,000 / ₹1,500 | 50% / 75% |
| 180 | ₹5,000 | ₹5,000 | 100% |
| 181 | ₹5,000 | ₹5,000 | 100% |
| 182(1) | ₹10,000 | ₹10,000 | 100% |
| 182(2) | ₹10,000 max | ₹2,000 / ₹5,000 | 20% / 50% |
| 183(1) | ₹1,000–2,000 LMV; ₹2,000–4,000 medium/heavy | ₹1,000 / ₹2,000 and ₹2,000 / ₹4,000 | Exactly the statutory band |
| 186 | ₹1,000 / ₹2,000 | ₹500 / ₹1,000 | 50% |
| 189 | ₹5,000 / ₹10,000 | ₹5,000 / ₹10,000 | 100% |
| 190(2) | ₹10,000 max | ₹2,000 / ₹5,000 | 20% / 50% |
| 194(2) | ₹40,000 | ₹40,000 | 100% |
| 198 | ₹1,000 | ₹1,000 | 100% |
No row we measured exceeds the statutory maximum. That is the one structural statement this schedule supports, and it puts Chandigarh in a particular place on a spectrum this series has been building for a dozen pages.
| Odisha | Never below the statutory minimum |
| Telangana | Never above the maximum, by an express proviso |
| Andhra Pradesh | The published figure is itself a minimum |
| Assam | The maximum, on every row |
| Meghalaya | A floor at 50% of the maximum, by formula |
| Chhattisgarh | No rule at all — 10% to 100%, scattered |
| Chandigarh | 20% to 100%, offence by offence, and never above |
Chandigarh looks superficially like Chhattisgarh — a scatter with no visible formula — but the two are not the same thing. Chhattisgarh’s scatter includes rows we could not reconcile with the Act at all. Chandigarh’s scatter stays inside the Act on every row and lands exactly on the statutory band for speeding. It reads like a drafter making judgements, not like a table that drifted.
Row 1. Section 177 is priced at ₹500 for a first offence and ₹1,000 for a subsequent one. The Act provides five hundred rupees for a first offence and fifteen hundred for a subsequent one.
So the first-offence figure is the statutory one exactly, and the repeat figure is about two-thirds of it.
That is a deliberate-looking choice rather than an error, and it is worth a sentence because the general direction of travel in this series is the opposite. Most states that depart from the Act on a repeat row depart upward, or copy the maximum. Chandigarh is one of the few that sets a repeat figure visibly below the statutory one, and a driver on a second section 177 challan here pays five hundred rupees less than the Act would allow.
This is the finding we have been waiting several pages for.
On our Chhattisgarh page we wrote that sections 194C and 194D each carry a three-month disqualification of the driving licence which no schedule in seventeen states mentioned, and we asked what becomes of it when somebody pays a thousand rupees at a counter and drives away.
On our Mizoram page we found the first government page to state it — but that was a penalties page, not a compounding schedule.
Chandigarh puts it in the compounding schedule itself, on three rows.
| Row | Section | What the schedule says |
|---|---|---|
| 17 | 190(2) | ₹2,000 and ₹5,000 — “Driver shall be disqualified for holding driving license for a period of three months”, on both amount columns |
| 25 | 194(C) | ₹1,000 — “Driver shall be disqualified for holding driving license for period of three months” |
| 26 | 194(D) | ₹1,000 — “Driver shall be disqualified for holding driving license for period of three months” |
A person reading row 26 learns that a helmet offence in Chandigarh costs a thousand rupees and three months of their licence. A person reading the equivalent row in seventeen other states learns only the thousand rupees, and discovers the rest later or not at all.
And as we established on the Nagaland page, section 200(2) provides that compounding does not exempt an offender from proceedings under section 206(4). So the disqualification is not something paying makes go away. It is simply that almost nobody tells you.
In twenty-six jurisdictions, this is the first section 200 schedule to say it.
Rows 12 and 13 do the same thing for a different provision. Both carry the note that “Driving License of such driver shall be impounded as per provision of sub-Section 4 of Section 206 of Act”.
Assam was the first instrument in this series to write section 206(4) into a schedule, in two rows where it put the section number where other states put a number of rupees. Chandigarh is the second, and it does it on the rows most people actually meet — speeding in a light motor vehicle and in a heavy one.
Note where the note sits: in column 4, the subsequent-offence column, on row 12. On a first speeding offence in a light motor vehicle you pay a thousand rupees. On a second you pay two thousand and the licence is impounded.
Row 14 of the schedule reads, word for word:
“184 (only for use of handheld communication devices)” — ₹2,000 for a first offence, ₹10,000 for a subsequent offence “(within three years of previous offence)”.
Schedule to the notification of 6 December 2019, row 14 — as printedThis is the clearest statement of the section 184 limitation we have found in any government document, and it has taken us four pages to assemble the picture it states in one bracket.
| Assam, 23 September 2019 | Prices “184(c) Using Mobile phone while driving” and nothing else of section 184 across eighty-eight rows. We could not explain it at the time. |
| Chandigarh, 6 December 2019 | “184 (only for use of handheld communication devices)” — the limitation stated in words. |
| Meghalaya page | We found one of three disputed renderings of section 200(1) limiting section 184 this way, and could not confirm it. |
| Nagaland page | Proved from the Act: the substituted section 200(1) brings in only “clause (c) of the Explanation to section 184”. |
Two governments drafting within fifteen weeks of each other, in different corners of India, both noticed that section 184 is compoundable only as to one limb. Both were drafting with the amendment in front of them. States that re-notified years later, or not at all, price section 184 as “driving dangerously” without limitation — and on this reading those rows reach further than the Act allows.
The practical consequence in Chandigarh: if you are stopped for jumping a red light, that is not compoundable under section 184 here, because row 14 does not cover it. If you are stopped with a phone in your hand, it is, at two thousand rupees.
Two rows distinguish between vehicles, and both do it sensibly.
Splitting by vehicle class is common — Chhattisgarh does it in four classes on some rows. What is less common is doing it and still landing inside the statutory band on every class, which is what makes this schedule read as careful rather than arbitrary.
Thirty rows is not all of Chapter XIII, and the absences are instructive.
So the schedule is current as of its own date and under-inclusive only in the way that every pre-2025 instrument in India now is.
The 2019 notification supersedes No. 2/3/57-HIII(7)-2008/2848, dated 8 February 2008, issued by the Home Department rather than the Transport Department.
We could not find that document, and we are not going to speculate about what was in it. But two things follow from its bare existence and its date, and both are useful.
Eleven years between notifications, and then a replacement within ninety-six days of a statutory change, is a reasonable record. It is a better record than most of the states in this series, several of which are still applying instruments from 2003, 2008 and 2011.
A practical note for readers in the region, and an admission about this series.
Punjab is the one state in India we have not been able to write about. Across twenty-six pages we have tried repeatedly: the state transport portal fails on its certificate, the legal databases return errors, and no compounding notification for Punjab has surfaced from a government source we are willing to use. It remains the largest gap in this work and we have not hidden it.
Chandigarh is not a substitute for that, and we want to be exact about why.
The schedule on this page is Chandigarh’s. It was made by the Administrator of the Union territory under section 200(1), for the Union territory. It is not a Punjab instrument and it does not apply in Punjab.
The fact that the Administrator is also Punjab’s Governor does not make this Punjab’s schedule. He signs it in a different capacity, for a different jurisdiction, under a different executive machinery.
And section 87 of the Punjab Reorganisation Act runs the other way: it extends Punjab’s enactments to Chandigarh, never Chandigarh’s instruments to Punjab.
What Chandigarh does give a reader near that border is something narrower and still worth having. If you are driving between Mohali, Panchkula and Chandigarh in a single afternoon — which a great many people do every day — you are crossing between three jurisdictions whose compounding arrangements are three separate instruments. Haryana’s we have written about. Chandigarh’s is on this page. Punjab’s we cannot give you, and that is a gap in what you can check, not a gap in the law.
The practical consequence: an amount quoted to you in Mohali is not governed by the table above, and a figure you learned in Chandigarh is not a reason to dispute one in Panchkula. Three cities that function as one are, for this purpose, three different legal regimes.
Now the part of this page we did not expect to be writing, because the notification itself is one of the better documents in this series.
The Chandigarh Traffic Police publish two things: the PDF of the notification, and a web page that sets out its preamble as text. We read both. They do not agree.
| # | The web page says | The notification says |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | “In suppression of” | “In supersession of” |
| 2 | the superseded notification is “dated 08.02.2020” | “dated 08.02.2008” |
| 3 | heads it a Home Department notification | heads it TRANSPORT DEPARTMENT (the superseded one was Home Department) |
| 4 | no mention of column 5 at all | “is pleased to specify the authorities mentioned under column 5” |
Difference 2 is the one that gives the game away, because it is impossible on its face. A notification dated 6 December 2019 cannot supersede one dated 8 February 2020 — that is fourteen months later. And the superseded notification’s own number contains “2008”, which is a second reason to think the PDF is right and the transcription slipped a digit.
Not the spelling, and not the date, interesting as the date is.
The words the web page drops are the words that say the Administrator is specifying who may compound.
Read only the web page and you would not know that column 5 exists, that there is an authority column at all, or that the power to take money from you at the roadside is limited to three categories with a rank floor of Head Constable.
That is, as it happens, the single most checkable protection in the whole instrument — the one thing on this page an ordinary person can verify while it is happening. And it is the one thing the summary leaves out.
If you ever need to put the point in writing, quote the notification. A letter that recites the preamble as the web page has it will contain an impossible date and will omit the authority limb altogether, which is a poor way to open. A reply drafted from the notification cites a number, a date, a column and a row, and there is nothing to argue with in that.
We are not suggesting anything was dropped on purpose. A scanned notification transcribed into a web page acquires errors; that is what transcription does, and the PDF is published right next to the page, which is more than many governments manage.
We are recording it because it is the cleanest demonstration this series has produced of a rule we keep relearning: read the instrument, not the summary of it.
Everything that makes this page worth reading — the Administrator exercising the power, column 5, the three-month disqualification on rows 17, 25 and 26, the section 206(4) note on the speeding rows, the bracket on row 14, the fifty-rupee row that turned out to be current law — is in the notification and none of it is on the web page. We would have written a much thinner and partly wrong page from the summary alone.
After the last two pages, a relief.
The Chandigarh Traffic Police list among their published notifications both the Motor Vehicle Driving Regulation 2017 and the Motor Vehicle Amendment Act 2019.
On our Nagaland page we found that the Rules of the Road Regulations, 1989 were superseded by the Motor Vehicles (Driving) Regulations, 2017, made by G.S.R. 634(E) of 23 June 2017 — and that the Telangana Transport Department still publishes the 1989 text as current. On our Puducherry page we found a second transport department doing the same, with a police enforcement page relying on the 1989 instrument by name.
Chandigarh has the 2017 version, alongside Kerala Police, who circulated it for strict implementation in 2018. Two out of four is not a good score for the country, but it is worth saying when a government gets it right.
A piece of housekeeping that we can now finally close, because it has appeared in the “what we could not establish” section of five consecutive pages.
Since our Nagaland page we have been trying to obtain the authenticated consolidated text of section 200 from India Code, to settle whether the community service proviso survived the January 2025 substitution. It has failed six times: read timeouts on repeated attempts, and a refusal by the network when we tried to download the file directly.
We opened the same file from an entirely different network and browser, and the server returned “An error occurred while processing your request” from its content delivery network, with an error reference.
So the problem is at the source, not at our end. The consolidated Act is not being served. That does not answer the proviso question, but it does mean we can stop describing it as something we keep failing to fetch and start describing it as a government file that is not currently available.
The question itself stays open, and it stays listed.
This is the shortest version of this section we have written for any jurisdiction, because here the document exists and you can read it.
Then you are in the best position this series has to offer, and it is worth understanding why.
In most jurisdictions we have written about, the argument has to be made from the Act — that an amount exceeds a statutory maximum — because there is no published state figure to point at. In Nagaland there is no schedule at all. In Puducherry the published figures are six years out of date. In Meghalaya you have to compute the band yourself.
In Chandigarh you can point at a notification number, a date, a serial number and a cell. That is not an argument; it is a citation. A written reply that does that is a short document, and it is the one piece of work this jurisdiction actually calls for.
One caution, from the section above: cite the notification, not the web page. If you quote the web page’s version of the preamble you will be quoting something that differs from the instrument in four places.
We are going to touch this briefly and without taking a side, because the office that issued the schedule on this page is the office being argued about.
There is a live public debate about whether Chandigarh’s administration should change — proposals associated with article 240 of the Constitution, and the possibility of a Lieutenant-Governor in place of the present arrangement in which the Governor of Punjab serves as Administrator. It is politically contested, and objections have been raised publicly by figures in both Punjab and Chandigarh.
We have no view on it and this is not the place for one. What we can say is the narrow thing that bears on challans: whoever holds the office, section 200 still requires a notification specifying officers and amounts, and the notification of 6 December 2019 stands until something replaces it.
A change in who the Administrator is would not, by itself, change a single figure in the schedule above. It would change who could issue the next one.
Fewer questions than most pages, because most of them are already answered.
The first of those is the only one with money attached to it, and it is the same question we have now asked of every jurisdiction in this series without finding a single answer. An application costs five hundred rupees.
Look up the row. Check the figure. Pay it. Keep the receipt.
Chandigarh is, on the documents, one of the two or three best-served jurisdictions in India for someone who simply wants to know what they owe. The schedule is published, it is current as of its own date, it stays inside the Act, and it tells you about the licence consequences that most states hide. There is very little here for us to do and we would rather say so.
The arguments worth making are the narrow ones, and in this jurisdiction there are only two that really arise: the amount does not match the published row, or the person taking it is not in column 5. Both are checkable in a minute and neither is improved by a conversation at the side of a road.
On what it charges: moderate and internally inconsistent, 20 to 100 per cent of the Act, never above it.
On how current it is: second fastest in the country, and still correct as of its own date.
On what it publishes: near the top. A full schedule, an authority column, licence consequences written in, the 2017 driving regulations correctly listed, and the notification itself put online as a PDF rather than described.
On drafting quality: the best single compounding notification we have read. It is the only one that states the section 184 limitation in words, the only schedule that writes in the three-month disqualification, one of two that cites section 206(4), and one of very few that puts the authority to compound in the table where a citizen will actually see it.
On the question we arrived with: it does not resolve who the “State Government” is in a Union territory. It shows what one territory did, which is the Administrator signing under section 200(1) and the result being gazetted.
It cannot tell you whether a particular challan is good. That depends on facts we have not seen.
It cannot settle the constitutional question about Union territories, and we have twice now declined to pretend otherwise.
It cannot help with an accident, an injury, a claim or compensation. Different chapters, different proceedings, and an advocate from the first day.
And it cannot tell you what a section 177A, 192B(3) or 201 challan should cost in Chandigarh, because no instrument we could find specifies an amount for any of them.
We said on this page that Chandigarh had, in effect, answered the question Puducherry made us ask: the Administrator specified the amounts and the officers himself, expressly under section 200(1), and signed the instrument. That still stands, and this notification remains the best-drafted one in the series.
What we did not anticipate is that the question reappears in a full State. In Arunachal Pradesh the General Clauses Act definition applies without any Union-territory complication and points to the Governor — and that State is the only one in India where Article 371H gives the Governor a personal responsibility for law and order, exercised in his individual judgment after consulting the Council of Ministers. The first proviso to that clause also makes the Governor’s own view of whether a matter falls inside his individual judgment final and unchallengeable.
So the comparison is worth stating plainly. Chandigarh, with the weaker constitutional claim to the power, issued the instrument and published it. Arunachal, where the definition points more directly at the Governor, has published nothing we could find. Constitutional neatness and published schedules turn out to be unrelated, which is the sort of thing this series keeps discovering by accident.
Three things on this page made Chandigarh’s notification the best-drafted instrument in the series: it named the authorised officers in a column of its own, it printed the three-month disqualification in its own rows, and it wrote the section 184 limitation out in words — “184 (only for use of handheld communication devices)”. We have since found the document that shows what each of those looked like before it was needed.
Sikkim’s schedule was made in July 2010 and prices section 184 at ₹1,000 rising to ₹2,000, broken down across four classes of vehicle, with no qualification at all — because in 2010 none was needed and the section was compoundable in full. Your row and that row are the same provision nine years apart. It also has no officers column, and no mention anywhere of a disqualification, which leaves yours still the only schedule in twenty-nine jurisdictions to carry either.
Row 4 of your schedule prices section 178(3)(a) at ₹50, and we nearly wrote it up as embarrassingly stale before checking that ₹50 is still the maximum the Act provides today. Sikkim’s 2010 schedule carries the same ₹50 across all three of its columns. Of its forty-four priced rows it is the only one still at the current statutory figure — which is as clean a demonstration as we could ask for that not every small figure is out of date.
This page argued that Chandigarh had answered in practice the question Puducherry made us ask: the Administrator specified both the amounts and the authorised officers, expressly under sub-section (1) of section 200, and signed it. We have since put the same question to two more jurisdictions and the position has not changed.
| Jurisdiction | What it is | Outcome |
|---|---|---|
| Puducherry | UT with a legislature | Left open |
| Chandigarh | UT without a legislature | Answered — the instrument exists and names both |
| Arunachal Pradesh | Full State, Article 371H | Left open |
| Jammu & Kashmir | A State that became a UT, then regained a legislature | Left open — and no notification found at all |
The last of those is the one that shows what your notification is worth. In Jammu & Kashmir, where we could find no section 200 instrument, the traffic police published their 2023 figures: of 13,72,501 challans, 9,43,892 were court challans against 4,28,609 compounded. We cannot prove the two facts are connected and we have said so on that page. But a notification like yours, which names the amount and the officer for every row, is exactly what lets a matter end at a counter — and roughly sixty-nine per cent of challans there did not.
This page treated Chandigarh as having answered, in practice, the question Puducherry raised: in a Union territory without a legislature, the Administrator exercises the power section 200 confers on the State Government, and here he exercised it — amounts and authorised officers, thirty rows and five columns, signed.
A fifth jurisdiction has now confirmed the first half and separated it cleanly from the second. Ladakh is also a Union territory without a legislature, and its S.O. 250 of 25 August 2026 states on its face that the Lieutenant Governor makes rules under section 138 of the Motor Vehicles Act. So the constitutional question is settled in practice twice over.
Who may sign is settled: the Administrator or Lieutenant Governor. Whether anybody did is a different matter entirely. Ladakh’s Lieutenant Governor has used the rule-making power to create a road safety fund fed by twenty per cent of compounding receipts — and no compounding schedule for that territory could be found at all, even though the same notification refers to “the officers authorised under Section 200”.
Which leaves your notification doing something none of the other four manage: it is the only instrument in thirty-one jurisdictions where the same signature that could fix the amounts actually did, and named the officers in a column of its own as well.
This notification is the best-drafted compounding instrument we have read in India. It is worth recording what sits immediately around it.
The power under section 200(1) is exercised here by the Administrator — who has, since 1984, been ex officio the Governor of Punjab.
And Punjab itself has published no compounding schedule at all. Its Transport Department’s entire notifications page carries nine items, four of which turn out to be individual scanned pages — numbered 11, 12, 16 and 17 — of a single user-charges file, and its own menu sends readers to the central ministry’s notifications instead.
We are not going to turn that into an accusation. A union territory of one city is a far smaller drafting job than a state, and the Administrator acts through a separate administration with its own officers; the Governor does not personally draft either document. A circular index also records a Punjab notification of 19 December 2019, thirteen days after this one — so Punjab may well have done the work and simply not published it.
What the juxtaposition does settle is that nobody in this region was short of the knowledge. Within about fifty kilometres and a fortnight, the job was done here to a standard nothing else in India has matched. Haryana, the third administration at the same junction, published the officer half properly and not the money. Three governments, one High Court, three different answers.
The notification and its schedule are from the PDF published by the Chandigarh Traffic Police, read page by page: the preamble and the first thirteen rows, then rows 13 to 18, then rows 18 to 30 with the signature block and the endorsement. Every figure above is transcribed from that document, and the column headings and the column 5 text are quoted from it. The web page transcription was read separately and compared against it, which is how the four differences were found. Sections 177, 178, 179, 182, 183, 184, 186, 189, 190, 192, 194, 196, 198 and 200 of the Motor Vehicles Act are from published texts of Chapter XIII. Section 87 of the Punjab Reorganisation Act, 1966 is quoted in full from a published text. The figures of 238 Punjab Acts and 7 Haryana Acts, and the quoted sentences about extension policy, are from a reported Lok Sabha answer of 11 August 2026 by the Minister of State for Home. The constitutional position under article 239 and the fact that the Administrator has been the Governor of Punjab ex officio since 1984 are from published reference material.
One near-miss is worth recording, because it is the kind of thing this method is for. A CAG audit chapter surfaced in search alongside “Chandigarh Transport Department” and looked exactly like the document this page needed. Read properly, it turned out to be the audit of Assam’s transport department for the period ended March 2024. It would have been easy to attribute its findings to Chandigarh. We mention it because the first pass over any document in this series exists precisely to catch that, and this time it did.
We have named no private individual. The people referred to are referred to by office: the Administrator and Governor of Punjab, the Secretary Transport who signed the notification, and the Minister of State for Home who answered in Parliament. Where a government document contains a rendering we think is wrong, we have printed both versions and said which document each came from.
Three situations, and they are narrower here than on most of these pages because the schedule does so much of the work.
A case already filed. Compounding remains available after prosecution begins — the notification says “either before or after” — but once a court is involved you want someone who appears in it.
A licence disqualified or impounded. Rows 12, 13, 17, 25 and 26 all carry that consequence, and section 200(2) keeps section 206(4) alive through compounding. Paying is not getting it back.
Anybody injured. Stop reading and find an advocate today.
Court work is for your advocate, whose fee is engaged and paid by you directly; we do not quote, collect or share it.
Questions cost nothing. Being introduced to an advocate costs nothing. Every document we draft shows its price on its own page before you commit to anything.
In a jurisdiction with a published schedule the useful document is a written reply at two thousand five hundred rupees — because here a reply can cite a notification number, a date and a row rather than argue. Where the question is whether something has been issued since January 2025, an RTI application at five hundred rupees is the right instrument, and for anything plainer there is a simple application.
Whatever an advocate charges stays with that advocate.
And the closing admission this series has now made twenty-six times, which is truer on this page than on most: Chandigarh publishes enough that the great majority of readers can settle their own challan in five minutes without paying anyone, including us.
Section 200 gives the compounding power to “the State Government”. Puducherry is a Union territory — and the General Clauses Act says that in a Union territory those words mean the Central Government, while a Council of Ministers advises an Administrator whose disagreements go to the President. We set the provisions out and leave the question open. Underneath: the territory’s rules are not made under section 200 (second jurisdiction proved on the instrument’s face), two different monthly rates sit under one ₹100 cap, the police table of 95 offences carries pre-2019 figures — and the territory’s own 2015 policy recorded a death rate double the national average and promised to notify penalties and fund road safety from compounding.
ReadA compounding arrangement has two halves — what an offence costs, and who may settle it for which offences. Most states publish one. Mizoram publishes both, and they do not match. Its penalties page, updated February 2025, is the only state document in this series that names section 177A, and the only government page that prints the three-month licence disqualification under 194C. Its compounding notification is from 1 August 2018 — still listing section 191, which 2019 removed, and listing nothing 2019 inserted. So a helmet is priced at ₹1,000 on one government page and absent from the other. Plus the only rank floor in India with a uniform condition on it.
ReadTwenty-one pages read a state’s schedule. Nagaland does not publish one — but it published something no other state government did: a notice telling the public that section 200 itself had been replaced. Serial 26 of the Schedule to the Jan Vishwas Act, 2023, commenced by S.O. 227(E) on 13 January 2025, substituted section 200(1) and added 177A, 192B(3) and 201 to the compoundable list — so every schedule in this series is now under-inclusive, and the community service power may have been deleted before any state used it. Following 177A back led somewhere stranger: the regulations it punishes were superseded in 2017, and state departments are still publishing the 1989 version.
ReadTwenty pages built around a table. Meghalaya’s section 200 notification has no table at all — instead of figures it sets a rule: amounts “not lesser than fifty percent of the maximum fine prescribed”. So a 2011 document still works, while Telangana’s fixed schedule from fifteen weeks earlier went stale. But the formula only saved the money, not the scope — its list of nine sections is from 2011, and section 194D for helmets did not exist then. Chasing that took us to something twenty-one pages had never done: reading section 200 itself — which settles that the compoundable list is Parliament’s and not the states’, confirms why drink driving can never be compounded, and reveals a community service power no state has used.
ReadThree pages in this series quoted a state rule capping a composition amount at ₹100 and we treated it as a stale state figure. We were wrong, and Goa proves it. Its rule 54 names its own parent provision — section 50(3), which allows “not exceeding one hundred rupees” in lieu of action under section 177. The ceiling is Parliament’s, not the state’s. In 1988 section 177 also carried ₹100 — the two matched exactly. In 2019 Parliament raised section 177 to ₹500 and ₹1,500 and left that ceiling alone: a 31-year symmetry became a 15:1 gap by nobody doing anything. Also here: the four paperwork delays this reaches, and why the real exposure on a late transfer is never the fee.
ReadOn Shimla’s sealed and restricted roads the law that stops you is not the Motor Vehicles Act — it is a Himachal statute of its own, the Shimla Road Users and Pedestrians (Public Safety and Convenience) Act, 2007. And it contains what no section 200 schedule in India contains: a fifty per cent on-the-spot settlement written into the Act itself, twice. Also here: the RC and the licence impounded if you do not pay; a plea of guilty by money order; time limits that run against the prosecution rather than against you; two appeals with named officers and real deadlines — the first appellate route in nineteen states that is in a statute; and section 22, confirming the Motor Vehicles Act keeps running alongside all of it.
ReadSeventeen states chose their own numbers. Assam did not choose. It issued notification TMV.250/2019/67 twenty-five days after the 2019 amendment — the fastest in India — and across eighty-eight rows gave no discount at all: every figure is the Act’s own. It is also the only state in eighteen that publishes four separate schedules, one per class of officer. The price never changes between them; the permission does. Police cannot compound overloading in Assam, and the two ₹1,00,000 dealer rows are reserved to senior transport officers. On a second speeding offence the schedule offers no amount at all — it offers impounding of the licence under section 206(4). Then in June 2024 the cabinet replaced the two-wheeler document fine with a warning, which is generous and which settles nothing.
ReadThe state publishes its own price list and almost nobody has read it. Notification F 5-5/VIII-Trans/2021 of 25 October 2021, issued under sub-section (1) of section 200 and sitting on the department’s own gazette archive — one of only two post-2019 schedules in India. Forty priced entries, twenty-four kinds of officer down to a Head Constable, and a repeat-offence column used on nineteen of forty rows where Madhya Pradesh — same 1994 rulebook, same design — uses it on six of thirty-one. We measured every row against the Act: a tenth of it on one section, the whole of it on five, one row above the Act and one below its floor. Plus the three-month disqualification that no schedule in seventeen states has ever mentioned.
ReadFifteen pages of schedules answer one question — what does it cost. Kerala answers the one that matters after you have paid. Following the Supreme Court, the High Court has held that even after a section 194 offence is compounded, the excess load cannot be permitted to stay on the vehicle — and directed that the driving licence goes to the Licensing Authority under section 19(1) even where the offence is compounded under section 200. Paying ends the offence. It does not authorise the condition, and it does not stop the second track. Also here: ₹5,000 per light for after-market LEDs, and Kerala’s 726 AI cameras — 1.3 crore challans, ₹900 crore issued, ₹300 crore collected, and ₹34.8 crore of payments frozen over questions about which cameras can even read speed.
ReadEvery schedule in this series was drafted before Parliament rewrote the penalties in 2019 — Telangana’s 2011, Andhra Pradesh’s 2008, Maharashtra’s 2016. Madhya Pradesh issued one on 6 March 2023, superseding all others. It is the only post-amendment list in fifteen states. And it prices three ways at once: by section, by first or second offence, and by what you drive. We checked every row — the repeat column changes the figure on only six of thirty-one, and those six turn out to be a coherent set. Also here: ₹1,00,000 per vehicle aimed at dealers not drivers, ₹300 for a helmet (the lowest anywhere), a load-projection row priced by what you are carrying, and 19 categories of officer including District Magistrates.
ReadBoth states carry a “Compounding” link. Open Andhra Pradesh’s and it is a different law altogether — not section 200 but section 86(5), the money taken instead of suspending your permit. G.O. Ms. No. 332 of 2008, rule 217, priced by what the vehicle is and what it carries: overload ₹2,000 + ₹100 per 100 kg, ₹200 per hour for missing your timings, ₹500 per excess big animal. Medium goods pay half, light goods a third. And AP is the only state in fourteen that publishes the other half too — a prosecution table naming the eight offences no payment will ever close. Its note four is the sting: the published fees are minimums, not prices.
ReadThirteen states in, we finally have the document itself. Every page so far ended the same way — the amounts live in a notification under section 200 that nobody can open. Telangana publishes its own. G.O. Ms. No. 108 of 18 August 2011: eighteen offences, two columns by vehicle, the officers who may take the money — and a proviso that does what nothing else in this series does. It writes the state’s own ceiling: the compounding fee shall not exceed the maximum fine prescribed in the relevant penal section. Odisha showed the floor; this is the roof. One problem: it is dated 2011 and the Act changed in 2019. Also here: the real 80–90% discount of December 2023, a half-rate for agriculturists, and why the police have had to call the yearly “discount” messages fake and fraudulent.
ReadTwelve states in, this is the one that shows you the line. Odisha’s One Time Settlement Scheme for e-challans pending on 31 July 2025 is not a flat discount. Six rows say “50%”. Eleven say a rupee figure — and that figure is always the exact statutory minimum the Act prescribes, never half. Seventeen rows, no exceptions. Where Parliament wrote “may extend to” the state halved it; where Parliament wrote “not less than” the state stopped dead at the floor. We reproduce all seventeen. Also: what the annexure leaves out — helmet, seat belt, insurance, licence, overloading — the notified speed limits under s.112, and a scheme that names no power and carries no legible date.
ReadThree states have now printed a composition rate in their own rules, and all three measure delay differently. Karnataka counts months. Tamil Nadu uses bands of days. Uttarakhand counts weeks — and sets the rate by what you drive. Rule 45: one rupee a week for an invalid carriage, five for a motor cycle, fifty for everything else — and a proviso capping the lot at ₹100. So a lorry hits the ceiling in a fortnight and an invalid carriage takes two years. Unlike Tamil Nadu, transport vehicles are in. Also here: the first appeal fee printed anywhere in eleven states (₹20 and ₹25), the Deputy Transport Commissioner (legal and tribunal), and a year in which challans rose 118.77% while collections rose 37.07%.
ReadTen states in, and this is the one that is open about exactly one half of itself. Tamil Nadu publishes no compounding amounts for road offences and no officer schedule — and then prints four composition rates inside its own rules, which almost nobody is ever shown. Rules 98, 105-A, 109 and 113: a late registration, a transfer not reported, a new registration mark, a change of address. ₹40 up to thirty days, ₹75 to sixty, ₹100 after — and ₹150 in the top slab of rule 113 alone. Each rule says the money is taken in lieu of any action under section 177, which no other state spells out. Also here: the enabling clause cites a section 311 that does not exist in the Act, rule 98 quietly leaves transport vehicles out, the founding notification carries no date, and section 200 is absent for the seventh time in seven tests.
ReadNine states in, the range has turned out to be enormous — and Gujarat sits at the bottom of it. Chief Minister Vijay Rupani announced the cuts on 10 September 2019: triple riding at ₹100, where West Bengal takes ₹1,000 and three months of your licence. Helmet and seat belt ₹500. A pollution offence ₹1,000, where Bengal takes ₹10,000 with a disqualification. Ten times, for the same words in the same Act. Then on 4 December 2019 the Transport Minister announced helmets would be optional except on highways and panchayat roads — we print what was said, flag that we could not find the notification, and say plainly that this is no reason to ride without one. Also here: rule 107, the first appeal procedure we have been able to read in nine states, and rule 98A’s thirty-day grievance clock for app aggregators.
ReadTwo things, and the first one saves money today. Rules 37 and 45 of the Karnataka Motor Vehicles Rules still compose a late registration renewal and a late transfer intimation at twenty-five rupees a calendar month, capped at one hundred rupees — figures written in 1989 and never updated, and the two lapses vehicle owners get caught by most. We quote both rules in full. The second thing is bigger: Karnataka is where somebody asked out loud whether a state may cut a traffic fine. The Centre said yes on 11 September 2019, Karnataka took legal opinion, cut on 21 September, and the Centre then said states had no authority at all. Both were right about different things — a state cannot touch the fine a court imposes, but section 200 gives it the compounding amount. That distinction is the key to every other state page on this site, and this is where it surfaced.
ReadEvery state publishes what you can pay. Maharashtra is the only one that also published what you cannot — a list of nine non-compoundable offences. Two of them are things your neighbours let you settle for money: driving without a permit (₹10,000 in both Jharkhand and West Bengal) and overloading (₹20,000 plus ₹2,000 a tonne in Jharkhand). Here there is no amount at all — a court decides, both the driver and the owner are charged, and a repeat permit offence carries a minimum three-month sentence. The same document shows a Police Constable as the compounding authority for about 95 of 104 offences, the lowest rank floor of any state we have examined and the exact opposite of Bengal. Its money is from 2016 and stale, it is still sitting on a government server, and we say so.
ReadFive states in, every page had a hole — Haryana told us who may issue a challan but never what it costs, Jharkhand the reverse. Bengal prints both halves in one notification. Schedule I names who may compound, and for oversized vehicles under section 182B that is the Director of Transport alone, one officer for the whole state. Schedule II runs to twenty-six rows and six columns, because Bengal is the only state that prints the section you broke and the section you are charged under separately — which makes a challan testable on its face. We reproduce both schedules. Then overloading, which is deliberately left out: it runs on its own notification that suspends the permit on a second offence and cancels it on a third, with the registration suspended behind it. Also: a ₹10,000 figure where Jharkhand charges ₹1,000, three rows where a licence disqualification rides along with the payment, a rule 349 that may crack our five-state pattern, and a police page still quoting superseded notifications.
ReadA District Transport Officer in Patna wrote that traffic challans could not be taken up at a National Lok Adalat. Somebody took that letter to the High Court — and fourteen months later the State had notified a scheme letting old e-challans be closed at fifty per cent, with the Chief Justice directing where the counters should stand and that no money be taken in cash. This page traces the whole sequence from Rani @ Rani Tiwari v. State of Bihar to Notification No. 3261 of 30 April 2026, sets out exactly which offences the scheme covers — and the one it leaves out, which is overloading, the most expensive offence in the Act. Also: why the Lok Adalat did not reduce anything, a correction to our own earlier pages, section 200 missing for the fifth state running, and the Supreme Court order pulling from the other end.
ReadThree state pages in we had to keep telling readers the amounts could not be printed, because the document fixing them was unreachable or a photograph. Jharkhand broke that. Its Transport Department memo Pari. Ayu.-192/2016 carries a five-column schedule — section, offence, penalty before 1 September 2019, penalty after, and the compounding fee — and we reproduce all twenty-five rows. Then the harder half: section 185 and a dozen others are not in it at all, section 194A has an empty compounding cell, and a second speeding offence carries a licence impoundment instead of a sum. Also here: three rows whose penalty columns appear transposed, the three-month deferral of September 2019, the state rules of 2001 that will not open, a Delhi address printed on the state enforcement page, and the Supreme Court order of 28 September 2026 that turns an unpaid challan into a blocked registration.
ReadAcross three state pages we kept asking the same question — who is actually allowed to stop you and write this — and Haryana is the first state that answers it. Rule 225 of its 1993 rules, substituted in 2021, appoints seventeen categories of officer and lists the sections each may challan under. We reproduce the whole schedule. The police floor is an ASI, their list is shorter than the transport list, and overloading under section 194 does not appear against the police at all — it is transport department work. Two provisos matter: five officers cannot touch private buses, and police powers widen outside municipal limits. Section 200 is missing from the enabling provisions for the third state running, so the amounts come from a notification we could not find — and we say so rather than copying a rate list.
ReadOur second state page, and the finding at the top of it is one the High Court only said out loud in August 2026: Uttar Pradesh has no separate traffic police cadre, and the Bench asked the government to decide on creating one. The state’s own rules contain no compounding provision — section 200 is not even among their enabling sections — so the amount comes from a notification, dated June 2020, and the schedule everybody quotes online is older than the 2019 amendment. An appeal in a licensing matter goes to the Deputy Transport Commissioner of the Zone, not the RTO. Plus the High Court’s own Payment Setu portal across 74 district courts, the school-vehicle chapter nobody mentions, number portability, and why this page carries no compounding figures.
ReadA stay order is not a thing you can go and collect. It is an order made inside a suit, which is why the document that has to exist first is the plaint and not the application. The Supreme Court set three requirements, and most applications die on the third: irreparable injury means an injury that money at the end of the case cannot adequately repair — so “I will lose money” is usually not enough. Before any of that there is a gate: section 41 of the Specific Relief Act lists eleven situations where an injunction cannot be granted at all, including stopping a criminal proceeding, and one added in 2018 for infrastructure projects. Also the ex parte order and the thirty days in Rule 3A that people mistake for a result, what happens to somebody who breaks an injunction, and the appeal that runs both ways.
ReadAlmost nobody reading this chose arbitration. It was in the loan agreement, the builder agreement, the insurance policy — a clause nobody negotiated. So the first question is not how arbitration works; it is whether that clause can be used the way the other side says. On the two commonest versions the Supreme Court has said no. A party interested in the outcome cannot alone appoint the arbitrator (2019), and a Constitution Bench held in November 2024 that unilateral appointment clauses in public-private contracts violate Article 14. And if you are a consumer, the clause does not shut the consumer forum. Plus the twelve-plus-six month clock, the grounds for setting an award aside in the statute’s own words, the 2025 ruling on when a court may modify one, and why filing a challenge no longer freezes the award.
ReadThe one rule a court applies against you even if the other side never mentions it. Section 3 says a late suit shall be dismissed although limitation has not been set up as a defence, so hoping nobody notices is not a plan. We set out how the Schedule really works — and why the third column, saying when time starts, decides more than the number of years does. What restarts the clock (a signed acknowledgement, a recorded part payment) and the condition both carry. Why delay can be condoned in an appeal but never in a suit. The Covid exclusion of 15 March 2020 to 28 February 2022, still worth nearly two years and still forgotten. And section 27, where losing the period does not just bar the suit — it extinguishes the ownership.
ReadEvery page on this subject opens by saying mediation is voluntary. That is true of one of the three mediations you can end up in. Before a commercial suit it is compulsory, and the Supreme Court has treated compliance as jurisdictional — skip it and the plaint is liable to be rejected. And a court can refer you without your consent at all, unlike arbitration. We also did the thing nobody seems to have done: checked how much of the Mediation Act 2023 is actually in force. The commencement notification we could find switched on the regulator and the rule-making power — not pre-litigation mediation, not confidentiality, not enforcement. Plus the section 12A judgments from 2022 to October 2025, what is privileged, and the four grounds on which a settlement can be undone.
ReadTwenty pages on this site mention it and none of them explained it, so here it is from the only angle that matters: the point of view of the person being asked to sign. A Lok Adalat cannot decide anything — the Supreme Court said so in 2008 — it only records what you agree to. And section 21(2) makes that record a civil decree against which no appeal lies to any court. Not a suit to set it aside, and not objections in execution: the Supreme Court shut both doors in November 2025, in a case where a man lost a property he had bought for four crore rupees through an award he was never party to. Also what can and cannot be referred, the divorce line nobody reconciles, the court fee refund, why the traffic challan discount has no instrument behind it, and the Permanent Lok Adalat, which can decide against you.
ReadThe words are not interchangeable in India and the difference has consequences. Who may appear for you, where notaries, legal consultants, document writers and “case managers” fit, and how to spot somebody who is not entitled to practise.
ReadA three-question test that does not depend on how frightened you are, an honest list of when the answer is no, what the Advocates Act actually restricts, why a power-of-attorney holder cannot argue your case, and who is entitled to free legal aid.
ReadHow to verify that somebody is really enrolled, why specialisation by forum beats seniority, the Bar Council rules that protect you before you sign anything, the conflict question to ask on day one, and the question almost nobody asks.
ReadWhy no honest Indian site publishes an advocate’s fee, the fee structures actually used, why “no win no fee” is not permitted here, what is a fee and what is an expense, and how to agree it so there is no argument later.
ReadWhat to take, in what order, what to say about the facts that hurt you, what a vakalatnama actually does and how long it lasts, what to write down before you leave, and what should happen in the first week afterwards.
ReadWritten for both sides. Why a single line at three thousand five hundred rupees decides which of two separate systems your tenancy is in, the closed list of grounds under Section 14, the first-default protection most tenants never hear about, the summary procedure under Section 25B that is lost by doing nothing, notice under Section 106, and why changing the locks is the worst thing a landlord can do.
ReadThree different suits wear one name. Whether you are asking for a share, for possession, or for a document to be undone — and why each has a different clock. Self-acquired against coparcenary, a daughter’s right by birth, why a mutation entry is not ownership, why GPA and will papers are not a conveyance, and the two decrees a partition suit ends in.
ReadOne “no” at the counter is not where the law ends. The three doors, in the order the law gives them — the police station, the DCP under Section 173(4), the Magistrate under Section 175(3) with its new affidavit condition — plus the complaint case where the accused is now heard first, and why the officer refusing you is sometimes right.
ReadThe distinction everything rests on, and why it is decided on the medical record by another doctor rather than by how bad the outcome was. Why the complete record is the first step and must be obtained before you complain, consent as a separate and often stronger ground, and the three roads — compensation, prosecution and professional discipline — of which only one pays.
ReadThe one law that can take back property you already signed away. Section 23 and what Urmila Dixit (2025) settled about eviction and possession, the Maintenance Tribunal before a Sub-Divisional Magistrate, the ceiling on the monthly amount and the route that has none, whether you may actually bring a lawyer, and where a daughter-in-law’s right of residence fits.
ReadFees, transfer certificates, admission and expulsion — and why the door that opens is the Directorate of Education rather than a court. What the Delhi High Court held in May 2026 about a hike at the start of a session against one imposed mid-session, why a certificate cannot be held against your dues, and how to ask the regulator for something it can actually do.
ReadFive different papers, five different answers to “what if I do nothing”. A private legal notice against a civil summons, a criminal summons, a tribunal notice and a police notice; the thirty days that is directory and the hundred and twenty that is not; ex parte orders and the thirty days to undo one; and why complying with a Section 35(3) police notice now protects you.
ReadWhat a family does in the first twenty-four hours, and the two rights nobody will offer you: default bail under Section 187(3), which turns on sixty or ninety days rather than the merits and dies the day the chargesheet is filed, and release under Section 479 after half the maximum sentence — a third for a first-time accused. Plus sureties, conditions, and why a bail order is not release.
ReadThe court is not deciding which parent is right. It is deciding one thing — the welfare of the child — and that re-sorts every argument you were planning to make. Custody, guardianship and access are three different things; Section 6(a) gives a starting position for a child under five and not a rule; joint custody is a Law Commission recommendation and not a statute. Plus interim orders, access as the child’s right, parental alienation, passports and travel, and what to do when an order is broken.
ReadGetting the content taken down and getting the person acted against are two different cases, with different addressees and different clocks. The Grievance Officer’s twenty-four hours and fifteen days, the twenty-four hour rule for nudity and morphed images, the thirty-day appeal almost nobody uses, why Shreya Singhal explains the wall you hit, Zero FIR, preservation requests, and the Section 63(4) certificate that decides whether your screenshots count at all.
Read“The marriage is over” is not a ground — Parliament never made irretrievable breakdown one, and no Family Court can act on it. So the case turns on what you can PROVE. The Section 13 grounds as they actually read, what cruelty means after Samar Ghosh and what it does not, desertion and its two years, the one-year bar, and why Section 23(1)(a) destroys a manufactured ground.
ReadThe danger is rarely a confrontation — it is a false complaint at a police station, and from that moment the State does the family’s work for it. What answers it is her own statement before a Magistrate. Plus the protection petition, why consenting adults are covered married or not, the three-day rule when you move, and the honest Delhi position on the thirty-day notice. For adults only.
ReadThe paper in your hand picks your procedure — not the amount, and not how obviously you are in the right. On a cheque, a note, a written contract or a guarantee, Order XXXVII gives you a suit in which the defendant has no right to defend. Plus the three-year clock, the written acknowledgment that restarts it, why a cheque bounce complaint is not a recovery suit, the mandatory mediation that gets commercial suits rejected, and why winning is not the same as being paid.
ReadTwo questions come before the facts: which door, and how much time is left. Section 6(1) built the Local Committee for the two situations in which the office route is useless — fewer than ten workers, or a complaint against the employer himself. Section 9(1) starts a three-month clock from the last incident, extendable by three, and recent decisions treat the outer edge as a wall. Plus who counts as an employee, what counts as a workplace, the conciliation that may not end in money, the inquiry’s civil-court powers, and why Section 28 means the committee and the police are not an either–or.
ReadWhat your building legally IS decides the case, not what you are complaining about. Most Delhi RWAs sit under the Societies Registration Act, 1860 — a registration statute with no power to levy maintenance, fine a member or recover anything, so the charge rests on the bye-laws and is enforced only by suit. A co-operative society goes to the Registrar under Section 70, where an election challenge dies in thirty days. And a building under the Delhi Apartment Ownership Act, 1986 has a Deed of Apartment, parking inside the statutory definition of common areas, dues as a charge on the flat, and model bye-laws that make elections and audit compulsory.
ReadA challan is two different things wearing one name. Some can be paid and closed; the rest cannot be paid at all, because the compounding list takes in Section 184 only for handheld phone use and leaves Section 185 out altogether. The notice is not a bill either – it is issued under the section headed “Restriction on conviction”. Plus what paying on the Virtual Court actually means, why the “three challans” suspension rule does not exist, and what to do when challans keep arriving for a car you sold years ago. No penalty figures, and the page says why.
Read“Court” on a challan does not mean a trial. It means a Magistrate now holds the file, and that the next click is a plea rather than a payment. How to find the case – and why a driving licence number will never find it. Why the summons only appears after you act. What contesting actually does, and the published figure showing how few people do it. The Act’s own short route, why traffic offences are expressly NOT petty offences under the new code, when you must attend in person, what the court can do to your licence, and what five official sources say – and do not say – about ignoring it.
ReadA licence goes out of two different doors – a government office under Section 19 and Rule 21, or a courtroom on conviction – and the grounds, the appeal and the way back differ for each. The appeal is thirty days from RECEIPT, and we found no provision for condoning delay. A High Court has quashed a suspension that named no ground and recorded no satisfaction. The licence does not simply revive when the period ends: the Act wants a refresher course, or a fresh test and a medical certificate. And almost nobody knows you can apply to have a disqualification removed after six months. Plus why there is no three-challan rule and no points system in force.
ReadEverybody argues “it was not me”. The strongest ground is usually not your evidence at all – it is whether the challan complies with the rule the government wrote for issuing it. Rule 167A requires the camera to carry a yearly approval certificate, requires the challan to be accompanied by FIVE named things including a photograph showing the offence AND the plate, and requires the notice to be sent within fifteen days. And Rule 167A(10) gives an owner who was not driving an express right to say so – a right the portal does not implement. Plus Delhi’s own complaint form, the cloned-plate gap nobody fills, and why Section 209 is a far weaker shield than people think.
ReadWe read the registration chapter of the Act section by section, and the answer is not the one anybody wants: there is no provision by which a seller can take himself off the register without a transfer being completed. Transfer needs the buyer. Cancellation is about the vehicle – destroyed, beyond repair, removed out of INDIA, not out of the State. And the challans are the smallest part of it: the Supreme Court has held that a registered owner who purported to sell but still appears in the records is not absolved of liability for compensation. Form 29 is necessary and has not been shown to be sufficient. One rule prevents all of it.
ReadThe counter says clear the challans first, and nobody says under what. We went looking. The Act has no such provision at all – not in section 48, not in section 50, not in fitness or permits. The power is in a rule, and the rule is narrower than the practice: ninety days, the offender’s own licence or the vehicle named in the challan, and permit, fitness and tax expressly left out. A 2018 ministry circular goes further and cites no authority for doing so. Then on 28 September 2026 the Supreme Court directed much of it anyway. Plus the Kerala judgment holding that a transfer after a death is not a transaction at all.
ReadThe section is headed “offences by juveniles” and the person it makes guilty is an adult: the guardian of the child or the owner of the vehicle, and those can be two different people. ₹25,000 and up to three years, the registration cancelled for twelve months, and no licence for the child until twenty-five. The part nobody prints: Section 199A is not in the compounding list, so it cannot be paid at a counter and must go to court. Plus the complete exemption in sub-section (3), the written representation the Act requires before a registration is cancelled, and why the Pune case was not this section at all.
ReadTwo things are said everywhere about this and both are wrong. It cannot be paid online – Section 185 is absent from the compounding list, so a court challan is issued and a magistrate decides, which the Delhi Traffic Police has itself confirmed. And six months in prison is the maximum, not the outcome: the reported figures show custody in under a tenth of cases, for days. The consequence that is real, and that nobody prints, is the licence – on conviction, disqualification of at least six months, and the provision carries no “special reasons” escape at all.
ReadSince the transport strike of January 2024 every page on this subject has been built on a provision that has never been brought into force. The government’s own release excluded Section 106(2) when the new criminal laws commenced, and the Delhi High Court confirmed in July 2026 that it was still unnotified. The charge in practice carries five years and is classified as bailable. Plus the twenty-four hour reporting window almost nobody knows about, and the ₹2 lakh claim the Supreme Court found only 205 families in the whole country made in a year.
ReadAcross nine pages on challans and road cases we kept saying this is a court application and not something to settle at a police station, and kept not explaining how. This is that page. The old provision had no deadline at all – its replacement gives the court fourteen days to record and photograph the vehicle and thirty days to order its release, and a High Court enforced that in August 2026. Plus why the registration certificate is not the whole answer, how much the bond can lawfully be, and the special statutes where the Magistrate has no power at all.
ReadOur first state page, and the state-specific part is narrower and stranger than people expect. Rajasthan’s notification binds officers by rank and by area: a Head Constable may compound inside the Jaipur and Jodhpur Commissionerates, an Assistant Sub-Inspector everywhere else. The state’s own motor vehicles rules contain no compounding provision at all. Plus the thirty-day appeal to the RTO, a quarter of every compounding fee going to a non-lapsable road safety fund, who really owns the highway cameras, and why a seized vehicle here is so often a mining matter.
ReadSearch “Punjab e-challan” and almost everything you get belongs to Pakistan — the Punjab Safe Cities Authority in Lahore, a row of .pk sites, and commercial services. Not one Indian government result. The reason is that Punjab publishes almost nothing: its Transport Department’s whole notifications page holds nine items, four of them single scanned pages 11, 12, 16 and 17 of one user-charges file, and no section 200 schedule at all — while its own menu sends you to the centre. One date does exist: 19 December 2019, so here alone you can ask for the notification by name. Plus three two-second tells, the Gurmukhi-versus-Shahmukhi check, and why Chandigarh — whose Administrator is Punjab’s Governor — wrote the best schedule in India.
ReadOne question put to thirty-four Indian states and union territories: have you published what a challan costs, and who may take it? Five published a schedule after the 2019 amendment, seven are still running documents older than it — the oldest from 2008 — and around twenty publish no amount at all. In the whole country only two schedules tell you that a helmet offence costs three months of your licence. The full comparison table with every jurisdiction linked, the four jobs a schedule actually does, the patterns we did not expect — and every correction we have had to publish about our own pages, in one place.
ReadThe only jurisdiction in this series that was created while the amended Act was already running. Two Union territories merged on 26 January 2020, but section 17 of the Merger Act kept both rulebooks alive in their own halves — so the real question is whether Daman runs on one schedule and Silvassa on another. Neither exists. The registration mark was unified in four days; the municipal regime in eight months; the compounding schedule not in six years. The Transport Department publishes four documents, the whole legal library two entries, the police force’s rules shelf one reservation roster — and the traffic police page never once uses the word challan.
ReadThe smallest jurisdiction in this series, and the first where we had to ask whether our own question is fair. No two inhabited islands are joined by a road. The police run seven coastal security stations and publish no traffic page. The Department of Road Transport names no Act and no Rules at all — the only one of thirty-three — and a single Motor Vehicle Inspector is Licensing Authority for the whole territory. No section 200 notification could be found. We argue it both ways and then say where we come down: the principle holds, the scale does not — and a one-page notification would settle it.
ReadThe A&N Police publish a ninety-seven row spot fines list — the largest and most current schedule in this series. It marks which offences go to court instead of a counter, notes where the licence is to be seized, and prices the one compoundable limb of section 184 at ₹3,000 while sending the other five to court in the same row. Its notification is dated 22 days after the 2019 amendment — faster than Assam, which we had called the fastest. And row 17 of it caught three wrong figures in our own tables, which this page sets out in full.
ReadOn 25 August 2026 Ladakh notified S.O. 250, directing twenty per cent of everything collected by compounding traffic violations into a road safety fund — non-lapsable, audited by the CAG, and spent on signage, black spots, driving test tracks and ambulances. Puducherry promised exactly this in 2015 and never did it. The same notification calls a compounding fee one taken by “the officers authorised under Section 200” — so that authorisation exists, and we still could not find it. A territory that has published where a fifth of your money goes, and not what the money is.
ReadIn 2023 this territory recorded 13,72,501 traffic challans — 4,28,609 compounded and 9,43,892 sent to court. That is sixty-nine per cent going to a magistrate, which is the opposite of what section 200 exists to achieve, and no other jurisdiction in this series publishes the split at all. We could find no compounding notification here. The Act itself only arrived on 31 October 2019 — sixty days after the amendment — so this is the one place in India that has never known the pre-2019 Act. And in Srinagar 835 cameras now issue challans with no published procedure, for the one offence that costs you your licence.
ReadSikkim publishes the region’s fullest compounding schedule — forty-four priced rows in four columns, graded by repeat offence and by vehicle class — made by Notification No. 121/MV/T dated 29 July 2010. Sixteen years on it still prices a general contravention at ₹100, has no helmet row at all because the section did not exist, and carries two figures now below the statutory minimum. Meanwhile the same department runs AI cameras with a ten-day cure window and a written promise to pay you double if the machine is wrong — the most citizen-protective provision we have found anywhere. The newest enforcement in India, pointed at the oldest price list.
ReadArunachal publishes no compounding schedule, and the only state statute its district transport office names is a taxation Act. But one district did something no government in this series has done: it published what it collected. Lohit reported 3,782 challans and ₹42,18,800 in 2025 — which divides into about ₹1,115 per challan, the first real figure we have had for what is actually being charged on a road rather than what a document says it should be. And behind it sits Article 371H, under which this State’s Governor alone carries a personal responsibility for law and order — a question we raise and deliberately leave open.
ReadTripura publishes twenty-six no-parking zones and twelve parking zones in Agartala, each with a notification number and date; a tax penalty scale; and eleven amendments to its Motor Vehicles Rules, the latest dated five days before the central compoundable list changed. It publishes no compounding amount at all — and its Notices link points at nothing while its Acts link points at a file that will not open. Then its accident figures changed our mind: deaths fell forty per cent in two years while crashes fell nine. That is survival, not prevention — and it forced us to say plainly what a published schedule is actually for.
ReadSearch enrolled advocates by practice area, court, city, experience and language. Alphabetical, no rankings. Free to search and free to send a request.
Open the directoryChandigarh is one of the few places where you can check your own challan against a published table before anyone else looks at it. If the figure and the row do not agree, that is a citation rather than an argument, and it is worth putting on paper. Requests reach every advocate on the directory at once and the first one free takes it up; your number stays hidden until somebody accepts; nothing is payable in advance for drafting we do ourselves.
Two doors, both free. Clients search a factual directory of enrolled advocates. Advocates apply to be listed on it — no fee, no commission, nothing paid in either direction.
Search Bar Council enrolled advocates by what your matter is about, by court, or by city. Searching and sending a request are both free.
Enrolled advocates anywhere in India can apply to be listed. Your entry is published only after we verify your enrolment number with your State Bar Council.
Would rather not pick anybody? Tell us the matter instead — one form goes to every advocate at once, and the first to take it up calls you.
This directory carries no ratings, no reviews, no rankings and no fees — only the factual particulars the Bar Council of India permits, published at each advocate's own request. Browse the network · Terms for Advocates